Pillars of Destiny
by Celeste Bloodrayne
Summary: ShinRa bathed the world with the light of progress but the stronger the light, the darker the shadows. Dive into the depths of the abyss to find the truth, the pillars upon which rests the Sephiroth...PreBC,OC,violence,action,angst,romance,intro manga.
1. Hand of Fire

**Disclaimer:**

All Final Fantasy 7 © characters, logo and locations found in this work belong to Square-Enix ™ Co. Ltd. Except those which you haven't heard about, hereby named Original Characters and Places, and which are the creation and property of Celeste Bloodrayne.

The 'Pillars of Destiny' story belongs to Celeste Bloodrayne. Events happening in this story are purely fictional and are the author's creations. Any resemblance to any other work of fiction previously published, real events or people, is purely coincidental.

'Pillars of Destiny' is not to be distributed under any circumstances in its full form or as quotation(s) without prior permission from the author of the work. Copyright infringement will be in direct violation of the author's rights.

**WARNING: This story is a spin-off of the Final Fantasy 7 Compilation and may contain spoilers.**

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**Hand of Fire**

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_Utter darkness. But here and there, particles of Mako floated, piercing the thick shadows with their bright green glow._

_It seemed to be completely empty... until __something stirred. Something briefly illuminated by passing Mako particles, something dark or covered in dark things. A human form, shackled by dark ropes and chains of some indefinite material; those were the source of the disturbance, since they seemed to ...move? However, whatever it was they were retaining captive was totally immobile. It looked female, although she could not really be sure, not in this limited lighting. __It was also looking very... dead._

_Was it too late? Has she done all this only to come to yet another dead end? No! This was the only way left, so it had to work! She knew it had to! _

_So, she came closer to the dark, misshapen form, advancing slowly though the darkness. She reached out her hand, about to touch it..._

_/Who are you? __How did you find me?/_

_The voice, raspy and breathless echoed like the voices of hundreds of tormented ghouls. Taken by surprise, she took a step back and tripped, falling down on her butt. When she looked up, she saw a pair of startling, glowing fuchsia eyes awash with energy watching her with displeasure. _

_It -she- was very much alive and she was pissed with her. What a great way to start a relationship. _

_/Hmmm./ The... woman chuckled, but it didn't make her feel any more comfortable._

_/It does not really matter, does it?/_

_She felt herself blushing. She had been so taken aback, she had forgotten to answer and just stayed there gaping while her thoughts were running away with her. This was so embarrassing._

_Another chuckle, but this time she thought she could hear some impatience in it. What the...woman said next sounded a bit, ah, condescending too._

_/So, little one, what brings you to this wretched place? You must be very courageous indeed, to have braved all of these obstacles to find me. Or foolish. Tell me what you want of me, before I lose patience./_

_She quickly outlined her case after presenting herself. All the while, she kept her fingers crossed, nervously rubbing them together under the impassive and unnerving pink gaze._

_/I see… But I fear that what you want from me is something that even I can't do. __All I can share are memories… memories of a time before this, of a time before your very birth. Do you really wish to listen? You may never have heard of those involved and this is not at all what you have come here for./_

_Aerith Gainsborough quickly nodded. She was sure that this woman could help her but was unwilling to; after all, she had been in isolation for ages and probably had lost some of her humanity. Maybe if she listened to her story, she might be able to find a way to make her help her. She just had to!_

_/Very well, if you insist. Be warned though that it will not be easy for you. My memories: my nightmares, my sins. I relive them over and over again in here, as penance, as a reminder of my failures; I really don't think that you will find any way to profit from them. Take my hand… let me take you there, in my world. __Mine, yes, because the world as you know it was a very different place then… /_

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A bullet went through the soft flesh of my right thigh and I dropped to my knees, a sharp gasp of pain escaping my lips. 

But I was _so _not going down like this.

The heavy semi-automatic Browning HP was slick with my blood, but my grasp was still steady. It was not exactly a gun made for sniper shots and its weight was something of a liability but it was the only one I had on hand; it would have to do. I pulled myself to a nearby wall, shelter against the barrage of bullets coming my way.

Really, it was amazing that one of them hit me at all, the way those guys were firing. Were they _drunk_? They'd been wasting precious ammo ever since the gunfight started, splashing bullets around like water falling from a masterless high-pressure hose.

A drum filled with some unknown substance exploded some metres away from where I was, adding smoke to an already dark environment. For a moment, the firing stopped. Maybe the explosion had surprised them. I didn't know and neither did I particularly care.

What mattered was that all of this worked to my advantage. I dashed as quietly and quickly as possible under the screen provided by the smoke to another wall, further off, nearer to my unseen attackers.

I had barely reached my new shelter when I saw one of them step away from his shelter, out of the alley and into plain sight. He looked around and walked slowly to my previous location, batting at the smoke and peering through it. He was dressed entirely in black, from his army fatigues to the mask and the night goggles covering even his eyes, right down to his boots. From what I could see, he was more brawns than brains. Could I be charitable here I give him the benefit of doubt?

Just then the guy managed to gulp down a lungful of the acrid stuff, since he started to cough and rub at his eyes. Hmm. Maybe not then. Incredible. Simply incredible. What was the world coming to? Was this even worth my time?

'_Idiot.' _I sighed and pulled the trigger.

The man fell to the floor, twitching like a vermin-infested mongrel. Some of his companions shouted in fear or concern and shots exploded all around once again. I could imagine them, trying to guess where I could be, shooting around in the hopes that one of their bullets might hit me.

'_Hope on, little boys... maybe the tooth fairy will bring you some sweets tonight too.'_

And then, someone did something very stupid, the kind of stupid action that could earn him a medal at a stupidity contest somewhere or might result in an award for bravery in a better world.

A posthumous award, of course.

The new guy ran to his downed comrade, trying to lift him up while his 'friends' were still firing in the background. Did he really have a death wish? Probably. His goodbye note was probably lying somewhere, or in a more dramatic gesture, on him. Let me put an end to his suffering then. I aimed at him...

And he fired his goddessdamned gun straight at me.

I ducked to the right just in time, discharging a couple of bullets in return. My first hit him in the leg; the other ripped his gun away from his grasp. The man screamed as he fell on top of the other guy's body.

Shots exploded forth from the guns of my opponents, some of them hitting the downed men, eliciting more screams, more blood from them.

Great, thanks to that punk-kamikaze, they knew where I was now.

I huddled further into the shadow of the wall, loading my gun again as a shower of mortar and pieces of brick fell on me from the continuous impact of bullets. A particularly big piece clonked me hard on the head and I rubbed the sore spot, swearing under my breath. What kind of gun were those dudes using? Nothing I knew could fire so many bullets so quickly and with such power... In fact, the wall I was using as a shelter was disintegrating alarmingly quickly into rubble.

I had to do something, and soon. But I couldn't retaliate from here, not if I wanted to walk home tonight. With my injured leg, I couldn't climb up on the rooftop either. Nor could I move quickly enough to gain another shelter, far off to my left.

From the example of those two guys, I didn't think that any more of them would step forward this time. Too bad, nicking them off one by one would have been fun. So what could I do to end this?

I was considering my options when Mr. I'm-A-Stupid-Hero-Wannabe-Who's-Got-Dreams-Of-Martyrdom had another bright idea. Too bad I saw him reach for the hidden gun. Too bad I was the quicker one this time... He had barely drawn the gun out that his hand dropped down; he never had the time to aim.

Amidst the geyser of blood, something sparkled with a bright green glow, piercing the darkness and making the red drops shimmer like priceless rubies as they fell into the slowly widening pool of wasted life.

Materia. Loaded on a sawn-off shotgun. Mastered.

A slow grin of victory stretched my lips. Time to get this show on the road, hotstuff.

Ignoring the pain, I dove out of my crumbling shelter and ran to the two downed men. Or rather, I zigzagged, snap rolled, dodged and jumped my way to the coveted prize. Snatching it away from the man's still warm fingers, I back flipped, putting more distance between them and me, even while their bullets trailed me like hungry dogs. However I wasn't worried about being hit again. With their aiming, not really. I just concentrated on the task on hand and ignored all other concerns, all factors exterior to this fight for supremacy, for survival.

My wounds were screaming, but I didn't exactly feel their agony, not in the conventional sense. I hurt, but that hurting was different... like the throes of passion, almost; see, I was high on the adrenaline pumping in my veins, as pure as the cleansing fires of the Goddess and as addictive as their heat in the midst of a snowstorm, sharpening my senses to supernatural heights, slowing time, burning in me like a raging inferno and turning my pain into a strange kind of ecstasy.

And this is what I do when that particular feeling surfaces:

_Use the ecstasy, the pain, the wicked buzzing of it in the nervous system. Heed the beat of blood as it runs from the veins into the wound into open air, thudding as if in cadence with the warfare beat of some primitive drums; absorb it, all of it, compress it in a tight core. Until it morphs into power, power on which to feed, to become drunk on._

_The call for power... so sweet, so destructive. Reach out for more. Use the feelings trapped inside to ignite the dynamo that will create more power, more energy: forget all the careful restraints, call up all the dark things buried deep down in memory and use them, turn fear, humiliation, past agony into resentment; and resentment into anger; and anger into burning hatred. And hatred... into bloodlust._

_Use it to let out the killer inside, the merciless, savage side that takes control with a single purpose: death and destruction. _

It was here, I could feel it, and I let go. It became me, and I became it; we were one and I was unstoppable. Immune to everything. Lethal. My Hand of Fire.

I fired before reaching the ground, and fire exploded from the gun. Aiming was accessory here, for with this type of discharge, under these conditions, my aim was always true.

I watched the most brilliant ball of orange fly away from me, scorching the air, a burning supernova of destruction, before the recoil threw me to the ground.

The men screamed.

And light exploded.

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**Author's notes:**

Welcome to the first chapter of 'Pillars of Destiny'!

Those of you familiar with my work probably know that I usually do prologues; for once I have eschewed this revered tradition and stepped straight into the heart of the matter.

The next thing on my agenda is the identity of most of the protagonists: well, wait for the next chapter(s)! Lol, I know, it's mean of me, but this is the way it is. I like blurring lines... in fact, why don't you tell ME who those people are? XD

Ok, what all of this meant up there in the disclaimer is that I wrote this story. No one else did it for me. Don't worry; I won't repeat this kind of disclaimer at every chapter. At least, not all of it:-p

As for the plot, it was a long, painful construction and correlation of ideas, divine illuminations, insights and lucky guesses. As such, some aspects MIGHT look like stuff already published here. Just remember that as you read more of the story.

MIGHT, as in 'I-don't-know', for I haven't got the time to read each and every story that happens to be published. So that you know that I think that what I'm writing here is original. And that you don't think that I am bigheaded enough to think that some other author hasn't come up with the same conclusion(s) as I.

Oh, since you're still reading this (might I express my sincerest admiration here?), there's a special surprise if you browse MyOtaku portfolio…. So, go on my profile page and follow the link posted there! (Psst ... manga!)

I also hope that you will like what I have done. Please open your heart to this story when you read it and let it speak to it, as it has spoken to mine.

_Makoto no kokoro… R&R!_


	2. Spiked Dice

**Author's Notes:**

Yes, notes are on the top for this story, since many of you don't read what I put at the bottom of the page. XD I'm sooooo mean. But really, this is to help you to understand the story better.

Since those are all OCs, I guess I have to provide you with a guideline as to how their names are spelled, as well as their origins.

Hope this helps.

**Characters' names:**

**Kalyra:** pronounced: _Ka-lee-rah._ Inspired by 'Kalika', the goddess of creation and destruction in Hindu mythology and 'lyre', the ancient greek instrument symbolizing moderation and equilibrium. 'Lyra' is also the name of a constellation usually depicted as a harp, or lyre. (heh, how convenient... XD )

**Hisannamy: **said with a French pronounciation _hee-za-na-mee_. 'Izanami' is also a goddess of both creation and death in Japanese mythology.

**Daimon:** said like _deemon_.

**Alven:** old form of 'Elven', or 'Elf'.

**Yuhy:** from the Japanese 'Yuuhi', pronounced _you-hee_, meaning 'evening sun' or 'setting sun'.

**Nord:** French word meaning 'North'. Pronounced _nor._

**Medo:** Japanese word meaning 'Aim' or 'Outlook'.

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**Disclaimer:**

All original Final Fantasy 7 © characters, logo and locations found in this work belong to Square-Enix ™ Co. Ltd. Every of the fore-mentionned which do not belong the the Final Fantasy canon are the creation(s) of Celeste Bloodrayne and are therefore her propriety.

The 'Pillars of Destiny' story belongs to Celeste Bloodrayne. Events happening in this story are purely fictional and are the author's creations. Any resemblance to any other work of fiction previously published, real events or people, is purely coincidental.

_Don't upset the Lifestream... I want to share the fun too! Wait for meeeeeeeeeee!_

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**Spiked Dice

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"Enough!" 

The deep commanding voice echoed all around, pulling me back from the stupor that always overcomes me after limitbreaking. Medics and other personnel were now swarming all over the place, putting out the fire and saving those men who still could be.

"Lieutenant Kalyra Hisannamy-Daimon! Report in twenty minutes in my office!"

The glare my boss sent my way before stomping away clearly told me that I was in for it this time. That, and the fact that he used my grade and my full name.

Great; just what I needed to make of this the very best day of my life. I pulled myself up in a sitting position and waited a moment for the black spots dancing before my eyes to disappear, the result of my staring at the over-bright lights now illuminating the ugly concrete ceiling for a full ten seconds. The head medic - Dr. Alven Yuhy, 30 years old, blonde, blue-eyed, single and startlingly handsome - rushed over with a couple of aides and started to prod my injuries. I winced as he went over my leg wound.

"Looks clean; the bullet went through and there are no fragments this time. Healing should take a minute or two, but take it easy for a couple of hours after that, OK?"

"Well, that's all up to the boss."

He sighed, waved the aides away and took out a Restore Materia. He lowered his tone, mindful of being overheard. "I might as well wish for a date with you, isn't it?"

"That's about it."

He sighed again and got to the job of healing the internal and external injuries. He then examined his handiwork.

"There'll be no scarring from the cuts on your face and almost nothing of the bullet wound in a week."

I nodded absent-mindedly. Frankly, scarring was the least of my worries.

"You really should be more careful, you know."

I gently pushed away his hand that lingered on my exposed leg, just over my new pink scar. "It's my job."

"It's not just the job and we both know it. Look, if ever you want to talk, you know where to find me."

I nodded. "Yeah. Thanks."

"Take care Lyra. Life is for the living."

He kept eye contact with me for a couple of seconds more before sauntering away to other patients.

To everyone else on the base, I was that freaky female lieutenant who usually made of any engagement, real or simulated, a bloodbath. Alven was a good friend, the exception to the rule. He was one of the few who knew not only my reputation but also me, and who still had the balls to call me by my childhood nickname,'Lyra'- a name that he had somehow wrestled from me during one drunken trip to the nearby town of Idaholl.

Leaving my trademark chaos behind me, I walked to the showers and hurried through a stinging hot one, washing away all the grime and blood over me, finally jumping into clean clothes. Throughout, I resolutely tried not to think about Alven's last comment; but as is often the case, not thinking about something made me think about it all the harder.

'_No, you're right, it's not all about the job. And life is not for the dead'._

It was three months already since he'd died. Ninety-five days of limbo. Ninety-five days of living death, without the young man who meant so much to me. Lonely days and nights, which I filled up with all kinds of nonsense to forget his absence, the emptiness without his laughter and his _joie-de-vivre_. Who was to blame for this tragedy, this terrible waste, all of this pain? A young man choking on his own lifeblood in my arms, telling me not to worry and to forgive him.

I, his murderer.

My hair was still dripping wet when I entered Lieutenant Colonel Medo's office and saluted. If there was anything positive about the man, this was it: spacious and not overly furnished, the room was functional and did not contain much military paraphernalia like models and medals, trophies, mementoes or whatever knick-knacks that often overflowed from other of the high-graders' offices. Rather, an impressive pile of reports and files were strewn all over the desk. I surreptitiously glanced at them while his back was turned to me, facing the window to the inner courtyard of the training facility.

Apparently, the vast majority of them were mine. Wow, I had no idea my file was that thick. Someone must have put a lot of hours behind that; and knowing military personnel as regards to report writing, cursed my name with every scripted word.

"First Lieutenant Kalyra Hisannamy-Daimon; would you kindly tell me what the exercise this morning was all about?" His tone was deceptively sweet, like the warmth of a volcano about to explode.

"For training purposes, sir!"

"And for whose training, Lieutenant?"

I stiffened. "The rookies, sir!"

"Exact. However, your little fireworks show earlier has actually transformed 'rookies' to 'ICU patients'. Most of the thirty men who actually had the balls to sign up are either in cinders or so badly burnt they will not enter service any time soon!" He practically screamed these last words.

"For the last fourteen weeks, your records have shown poor self-control, impulsivity, a damn tendency to ignore commands from your superiors and which have led to the death and maiming of more men than the army has lost in actual training accidents in the past year! Your… aggressivity is giving us the reputation of being a jinxed regiment and enrolments are down by 30! What the hell is wrong with you?"

He had turned to face me, but my face was as neutral as possible, my gaze fixed on some distant point over his shoulder. My muscles, on the other hand, were locked tight with tension, my spine so rigidly straight it actually hurt.

Lieutenant Colonel Medo sat down in his chair and leaned back; I could feel his pale green gaze burning twin holes right into my brain.

"Understand this, Lieutenant; I have studied your file and I must say there is quite a literature here. Your previous commanding officer, Colonel Nord had nothing but praise for you. Given the tragic circumstances of his demise, I have overooked your earlier mistakes. However, it has been fourteen weeks since the accident, more than enough time for the stable, levelheaded individual depicted in Nord's files to get back on her feet. I have submitted your file to the Board."

The Board. This was it for me then. If Lady Luck was on my side, I would only get chucked out of the military. But as it often was these days, I wouldn't bet on it; and so, I steeled myself for what was to happen.

"The Board has come to the conclusion that you can't stay in this facility anymore. Therefore, they have decided to give you the mission to patrol the southern plains and forests of the new continent. To do this, you have been given command of a new squad of twelve men that you can compose at your discretion; I have already transmitted some files to your office and I suggest you look through them as quickly as possible."

Medo smiled thinly as my lips formed an 'O' of disbelief.

"Your first objective is to keep the open spaces safe for travel along the roads and in second, to keep the monster population at a minimum. Also, you will be reporting to Colonel Tallon whose regiment is stationed at Costa Del Sol; you will be under his direct orders. Your date of departure is set in seven days as from tomorrow. Any questions?"

"Yes, sir! I… why am I really sent away? Why am I not…"

"…executed?" He looked at her sternly. "To be honest, Lieutenant, that is what should have happened. But the Board has decided that sending you there would be, ah, a better _dénouement_. As you are well aware, trouble is brewing on the Wutai front and they have decided to strengthen their position in this area. Apparently, the presence alone of a squadron in these lost regions is supposed to inspire fear and respect in the breast of the locals and make them more supportive of our cause. If you have more questions to ask as per this subject, I suggest you address them to Colonel Tallon; he is more _au fait _with the skirmishes in the lower continent. Any more questions?"

"No sir. Thank you sir."

"Good. Take the day off and communicate to me your itinerary and your squadron roster when you've completed it. Oh, and check with the quartermaster for supplies for the trip. Dismissed."

"Sir!"

Medo watched her salute crisply and walk out of his office. Once she was safely out of earshot, he dialled a well-known number on the phone. However, he did keep his voice low; his office was swept for listening/recording devices every week, but one could never be cautious enough.

"I have just told her. She should be there in three weeks. I think she can handle any trouble on the way there." He listened to his interlocutor's response and replied a bit testily.

"I don't agree. She is unstable and a danger to all and herself. She's killed her commanding officer and her cousin all in one day. Of course I feel skittish around her; all the men are, damnit! They believe she's the devilspawn's or something like that. What I would have done? Ordered her discharge or her execution, that woman has blown it; she's suicidal and murderous! But the orders come from up and there's nothing you or I can do about it, whatever we believe about her. Those morons at Bioengineering are gonna have her on their hands and I wish them luck, those Mako-making bastards. Frankly, they're mad to want to have her as candidate. Let them play with her and get burnt to a crisp too. That could be something we could use. Too much of our budget gets cut because of their whiney money-grabbing schemes. Yeah, we'll see. We just have to wait for it to fall into our hands, like a ripe, nice apple."

He hung up and stared at the ceiling. The Turks were on his side for this one. He didn't have to like it, but in this world, a roll of dice like that was a trigger for something that could lead him to higher, stronger positions.

Say, command of the front, instead of being stuck in this backwater piece of land. And of course, Bioengineering would not be looking down their noses at him as they have been doing since their discovery of the uses of Mako energy, but quaking in their overgrown shoes. Let them mess up and reap their rewards. He would get their budget cut by half and buy new weapons, hire more men. He would need more training facilities, fully equipped unlike this one. He would devote his energies and ressources to Weapons Development instead, get bigger, more effective guns. He snorted; that was one thing that the military really needed: better guns, unlike the stuff the men had been using today. Yes, this would be one of his priorities: really stable rapid-fire guns and ammo...

Wait- it wouldn't do to get ahead of himself. He had to take care of certain matters first, get the gears in motion. The sooner this thing ended, the sooner he'd be seated at his new office. He dialled a different number.

"Hello, Pr. Faremis? This is Lieutenant Colonel Medo…"


End file.
